Second Chance for the Heir

the imposing portraits that adorned the walls of the long corridor. They seemed to observe it, frozen in strange looks, as if their tim

ilence, took on the appearance of mystery. She knew what she was looking for, she couldn't find it by just aski

Camille advanced towards her without even thinking. She did not know why, but intuition pushed her to explore her,

all of the mystery was stronger. She gently turned the lock, feeling the end of her finger brushing something iced inside. The meta

ce to Bastien. He was there, a melancholy smile on her lips, the expression marked by something that she could not identify. Besides him, a woman, her sweet face, but deeply

rembling, seemed to come out of another time. Camille felt the air cut around her, as if

t, full of regrets, bitterness, but also hope. It was clear. Bastien, this mask of hard

turned around, a beating heart. It was Bastien. He stood there, frozen,

voice was like a whip of, sharp, but

the letters slippin

I don't

, an almost palpable

right? Discover things a

n. It was as if he had turned before his eyes, as if t

ry to hurt you, she whispered, th

, a slight bitter

ink you can solve everything by searching in my past, dig

ing in her hands. She knew she had crossed a limit,

his back now turned towards her, as

s I am, why do I wear this burden? he asked, the c

or, and Camille felt a w

stie

htly, but didn

s not a story of love and regrets. It's s

yes before he disappeared behind the door, leaving he

t the one she had imagined. She had underestimated the depth of Bastien's past, thinking that every

lf in every gesture he made, in every word he pronounced. She did not yet know if she wa

rd led her in a direction that she would never have imagined. She had believed that the evening would be like the others: calm, tense, filled with heavy silence

air. Camille hesitated for a moment. She knew she shouldn't. Everything in the atmosphere of this house told him to respect the bor

s not the relentless man, the cold and distant boss she knew. No, that was another version of him, more fragile, more human. His posture wa

hugged the windows, were trembling. Camille could see the traces of an inner struggle on her features. She was used to the

ng, like a storm ready to break out, but left no one to access it. Not even her. She was pr

g away, realizing that he had been caught in the act of weakness. Camille felt her heart tighten. She had seen something in him, something human that he didn't want

His voice was low, tense,

much more than the one she had known so far. This facade which

disturb, she finally re

t look away from him. He was a man, a man with his own demons, and he w

s, he whispered, as if he was add

sually so piercing, was now fleeing. He seemed to have sunk into a sea of regrets and loneline

d, her slightly firmer words this time. B

hat which they had built so far. Bastien stood there, frozen, eyes fixed to the ground. Su

finally, the words struck the air

ame the one she knew, inexpressive, almost cold. He turned his heels and, without one more word, slipped into the corridor, di

a burden. That even this man she had learned to fear and desire had her own injuries, hidden behind walls of ice. She would never have believed that Bastien's v

hat this knowledge was going to change everything she thought about him. But was it

secrets in him that he could not hide forever. But she felt it: she too was one of her world n